Working Solo
by blam-babe
Summary: Sara's pissed. Sara's working solo. I won't ruin it for you. Crap summary huh? I guess that you'll just have to read it and find out for yourself... [GS] Sara POV


As I arrive at the crime scene and step out of my air-conditioned car the first thing I feel is the heat. 'God, does this city ever get cold?' I ask myself as I pull my jacket off. I put my key in the lock to the boot and it springs open, revealing my oversized CSI kit. I've always felt that they made these things too big. I can understand when there's a lot of evidence that it needs to be big, but usually it's just hair here, fibre there, fingerprint by the door. Sometimes there's a bullet casing and I collect that, but usually there's not. The bullet is more helpful anyway, and that's usually inside the victim.

"Sara, nice to see you made it," Brass greets me as I walk to the scene of the crime. "It's a messy one." Ugh, I can already tell that. There's glass everywhere, broken bottles as well as windows and lots of dirt and grime. Just my luck that I get put on a case that involves a run-down building where homeless people squat. I silently curse Grissom under my breath for putting me solo on such a bad case. I asked if someone else could come with me, but he refused. I swear, that man has it in for me. As I step over the 10th broken beer bottle of the night, I tell Brass that this is going to take forever. I sigh loudly, and he motions me over to the corner.

"D.B.'s over here," he says as he points with his pen. It's very dark and the smell is terrible. I pull out my flashlight and turn it on. The whole room lights up a little more. Gotta love those mag lights. As I put down my kit I turn to Brass.

"Thanks, Brass. I should be fine now." He looks at me for a second and then replies. It's as if he can tell that something's wrong with me. God, even I don't know what's wrong with me.

"You sure, because I can stay here -"

"No, Brass, really, I'll be fine." I look at him a give him a false smile. "Go home to your wife or something. She'll be glad that you're home early." He thanks me before turning around and leaving me alone. Ah, alone. That's how I like it. Being alone can be very comforting, especially when you need quiet to do your work. Pity that being alone also means more work. As I bend down, and begin to look around the body, I feel a pair of eyes on my back, staring intently. I start to speak before turning around.

"Brass, I thought that I told you to go home." No reply. Great, now I'm going to have to get up and physically push the man into his car to get him to go home. He should know by now that I like being alone. Especially when I'm in a mood like this. I stand up and whip around, only to see someone I don't know. He looks at me, at my CSI ID hanging around my neck, and then down to the body behind me. He takes a step forward and I motion for him to stop by holding out my hand.

"Sir, you're not supposed to be here. It's a restricted area. Unless you have permission, you're going to have to go." He ignores me. "Sir!" I say again, this time louder. Then I see it. A gun. In his hand, behind his back. At least I think that it's a gun. I see another flash of dark metal and am now convinced. I reach behind my back, feeling for my own gun, when he whips his out. I hear a loud bang and see a flash of light. There's a hot burning sensation beside my shoulder. Someone calls out my name, but I can't hear it properly. I look down and see red blood pooling on the outside of my new white blouse. I can hear in the distance several shots being fired as I fall to the floor with a thud, feeling my head bang against the concrete below.

! ~ ! ~ ! ~ ! ~ ! ~ ! ~ ! ~ ! ~ ! ~ ! ~ ! ~ ! ~ ! ~ !

'Bleep. Bleep' God, what is that noise? 'Bleep.' There it is again. Oh god, why does my head hurt so much? I reach up and try to touch the side of my head when I feel a burning pain in my shoulder. I can feel blood pool out.

"Ouch." I say under my breath as I try to open my eyes. Then I feel a hand touching my own. I move my fingers slightly and hear someone calling my name.

"Sara? Sara? Can you hear me?" I open my eyes some more and see that it's Nicky. What's Nicky doing here at my crime scene? Then I notice that I'm not in a dark, smelly house anymore, but a bright, loud hospital. At least I think that I'm in a hospital. That theory is soon confirmed when I hear Nicky yelling out in the corridor for a doctor. Ugh. I feel terrible. I look down at the arm that Nicky was touching and see a drip sticking out of my elbow. My palm is facing up and there's a peg on my index finger, monitoring my heartbeat. That explains the beeping noise. I curl my fingers slightly to see if they still work. Good. They do.

"Sara, isn't it?" a doctor asks as he takes the clipboard off from the end of my bed. "Well, you've had quite a night, haven't you?" He says this as a statement instead of a question. I hate it when people do that.

"What am I-" I try to talk but with no success. My lips are cracked and my throat is dry. God I need a drink. I try to sit up, but the doctor gently pushes me back down on the bed. I look around. Nicky's gone. The doctor sees me looking around, and tells me that Nicky's out in the hall with my friends. Friends? Do I even have friends anymore? Ever since, well always, I've never had many friends. Then I realise that he's talking about my work colleagues. I watch as he takes my blood pressure and gently squeezes my drip-bag. He then nods at me and leaves the room. I lean back and close my eyes, trying to remember what happened to me. I remember Brass and the crime scene and the house and then nothing. I hear people walk into my room and I open my eyes again.

"There she is, there's my girl," Warrick says with a smile as he approaches me with a large bunch of flowers. He kisses me on the cheek and I smile at him. Catherine comes next, with an equally large bunch of flowers and repeats the exercise. Nicky sits in the chair beside me, reclaiming his original position.

"Man, I feel like I should have brought something," he says, turning around to face the others and then looking at me. He pats my hand and I smile at him. It's still hard to talk but the others are doing all the talking that I need. I look around the room and see Grissom standing in the corner, looking worried. So far, he's the only one who hasn't greeted me. That doesn't come as a surprise. Ever since I asked him to dinner he's been avoiding me like the plague. He notices that I'm looking at him and gives me a small half smile. I smile back, and notice that he looks worried. A mixture of worry with a bit of concern and guilt spreads across his face as he wrinkles his forehead slightly. He walks over to my bed and looks at me.

"I'm glad you're alright, Sara," he says, gently lifting my hand off the bed.

"Ouch!" I scream, silencing the room. I feel blood spill out of my shoulder and the bandage becomes wet. Grissom drops my hand like a hot coal and retreats back into the corner of the room. Catherine rushes over and does the motherly thing, asking if I'm ok and telling Nicky to go and get a doctor. Before Nicky can leave, Grissom obliges to go and he quickly leaves the room. I wince slightly, mainly due to pain but also due to pity. I didn't want him to leave. I know that he didn't mean to hurt me, that he didn't mean to grab the hand was attached to my sore shoulder. Then I realise that I don't know what happened to me. The doctor rushes into the room and assesses my shoulder by pulling my gown down. I notice that Grissom is the only person who looks away as my skin is exposed. The others stare in amazement as they see the bright red bandage over my shoulder. It feels wet. The doctor calls in a nurse, and she ushers the others out of the room. The doctor begins to remove the bandage.

"Quite an injury you have here Miss Sidle," the doctor comments as he wipes my wound with antiseptic. The smell is overwhelming and I wince every time he touches the injury with the cotton ball. He places a new white cotton gauze over my wound and tells me that he'll put a small amount of morphine into my drip to make the pain go away. He then moves towards my head and touches the side. Once again I wince in pain. "This bump should go away in a few days. Just be careful not to touch it, ok?" Yeah, I'll be careful not to touch it if he's careful not to touch it. Doctors. He turns and leaves the room, leaving me with the nurse. She smiles at me and I ask for a glass of water. I get told something about no fluids but I don't care. She injects something into my drip and I begin to feel numb all over. I am plunged into semi-darkness as the lights are turned off and I hear the door click quietly behind the nurse as she leaves the room. I close my eyes and sigh, letting the drugs lull me into a false, warm sleep.

! ~ ! ~ ! ~ ! ~ ! ~ ! ~ ! ~ ! ~ ! ~ ! ~ ! ~ ! ~ ! ~ !

"Hey Sara," I hear as I open my eyes. It's Nicky. He looks guilty. "How are you feeling?"

'Like hell,' I tell myself, but answer Nicky with a "I'm fine." He sits in the chair beside me once more. That's becoming his chair. I can see it already, Nicky and Greg fighting over who gets to sit in the chair. I smile to my self, and Nicky notices and he smiles back.

"I'm glad that you feel better." He leans back in the chair and looks around the room. "Grissom's kicking himself, you know."

"Grissom?" I ask. "Why Grissom?" Nicky sighs, pats my hand and leans forward, looking straight at me.

"Because he sent you out on that case solo even though you asked him for someone else. And then, well, you get shot and spend six hours in an operating theatre." I'm surprised. Six hours? That's a hell of a long time. Nicky can see this shock on my face. "Didn't they tell you?" I shake my head, indicating no. "When that bastard shot you they had to operate to get the bullet out, but you had lost so much blood, and it all wasn't going well. We thought that we were going to lose you." He added the last bit with a small smile. I'm still shocked. Why didn't the doctors tell me this? It does explain the constant changing of bandages though. They woke me up five times last night to change it. Five! Nicky continues to talk. "I'm just glad that I got to you in time, otherwise it could have been much worse." This confuses me – all I remember is working solo. Nicky continues talking. " Grissom felt bad after what you told him about working solo on such a bad case, so he pulled me off my case and told me to go with you. I had just arrived at the crime scene when he shot you, and I shot him in the legs." I must look surprised because Nicky then tells me that the guy will be all right, in fact I'm in a worse condition than he is. "You were unconscious for about ten minutes after you fell to the floor and hit your head. The ambulance came, and took you straight to the operating theatre. It was like an episode of ER or something." I smile at him. He remembered that ER was my favourite show. I close my eyes for a few minutes as the dull pain in my head increases. I block out all my senses and concentrate on making the pain go away. It begins to work until I hear a quiet knocking on my door. I open my eyes and see that it's Grissom.

"Hey," he whispers

"Hey," I whisper back. I look to my left at Nicky's chair. He has gone.

"He's gone home." I nod. "I told him to go. Spending too much time at a hospital isn't good for you." He smiles and sits down in Nicky's chair. The thought of Nicky coming in and arguing with Grissom over the chair makes me smile. Grissom pats my hand and then quickly pulls away like I'm on fire or something. I smile at him, not sure if the drugs I'm on has had some odd effect that causes me to smile at the stupidest things, or if I'm genuinely glad to see him. I think that it might be the latter, but I'm not quite sure.

"It's ok," I say, as I reach out with my good arm and place my hand on top of his. He flinches in surprise, not used to me touching him. "Nicky told me what happened." He looks at me and rubs between his eyes. "Don't feel bad, it's not your fault I got shot." All of a sudden he stands up and turns away from me. "Grissom?" I say but he doesn't respond. He continues to look away from me. I try again. "Grissom? What is it?" He turns around and faces me. There is anger and hurt in his eyes. He opens and closes his mouth a few times, searching for something to say to me. I continue to stare at him until he speaks.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles, rushing out of the room and nearly bumping into Cath.

"Whoa," she says, entering the room carrying a plant

"Cath," I say, "you've already gotten me something. Take it back." She sits in the chair and I smile at the thought of Nicky fighting with Cath. Must be the drugs. She notices me smiling and smiles back.

"It's not mine – I found it by the door" I look at her with a quizzical expression on my face. She looks down and examines it. "Wait!" she exclaims, "There's a card!" Cath reaches into the plat for the card and holds it up in her perfectly manicured hand like it's hidden treasure. She turns it over and opens the envelope. I wait as she reads it.

"So," I ask, "who's it from?" she reads from the card

'Sara, get well soon. Hope to see you back at work as soon as possible. From, Grissom' "Wow." She says putting the card down on the bed, "I really need to give that man lessons on how to write a good card." She smiles at me and I smile back. All of a sudden the doctor enters the room.

"Am I interrupting something?" he asks as he begins to examine my head anyway.

"Not at all," Cath says, flashing her smile at the doctor, beginning to flirt. Wow. Who would have thought that that woman could go for it over a head wound. And not even her own head wound. You've gotta admire that in a woman. The doctor smiles back. 

"Catherine Willows," she says, extending her arm in a greeting.

"Dr Hannison," he says, shaking her hand. I notice that he's wearing gloves. Gloves that will now be contaminated with Catherine's germs. They smile at one another and the doctor pulls out his flashlight and shines it in my eyes. "Follow the light," he tells me and I do as he says. "Good." Dr Hannison says under his breath.

"Well?" Catherine asks, suddenly interested in my health, "how is she?"

"She's going to be fine, Mrs Willows."

"Please, it's Cath." She says with a smile, "and it's Miss." He smiles at her once again. I clear my throat and the doctor suddenly notices me. As he reaches down to examine my bandages, the nurse urgently calls him from the hall, saying something about an emergency. "He's nice," Cath says, her gaze following him out the door. She pauses for a second and then looks back at me.

"Yeah," I mumble, the pain in my shoulder getting worse. Catherine looks at me and concern spreads across her face

"You ok Sara? You look pale." I begin to feel nauseous as the pain reaches its peak and I see Catherine rush out of the room only to return with a nurse. I throw up in the bag the nurse hands me, and lie back, breathing heavily. The world is spinning. I ask for a drink and this time the nurse obliges, bringing the doctor back with her. Catherine leaves when the doctor begins to examine my injury, but not without flashing him her famous Catherine smile. The doctor smiles at her and begins to poke around in my wound. I feel even dizzier now, and the nurse injects some morphine into my drip. It quickly takes its affect as the numbness envelopes me with its fuzzy niceness. I could become addicted to this stuff. I close my eyes and lean back into my pillows, preparing for a drug induced sleep. It is at this very moment at Greg chooses to arrive. "Hey Sara!" he says as he bounces into the hospital room. I drag myself back into reality and smile at him. Greg always has a way of making me smile, even in my worst times. Even when I'm slightly high on morphine. He sits in the chair that Nicky supposedly owns and pulls a bag out of his pocket. "Guess what this is?" he asks. I lean forward and peer at the contents of the bag.

"It's a bullet!" he exclaims. "Grissom asked the doctor for it and I kept it, thinking that maybe you'd want it." He gives me one of the biggest smiles I have ever seen.

"Thanks Greg," I say as he places it on the bedside table. He looks around the room and notices the two bunches of flowers I have and the one plant.

"So," Greg states as he attempts to break the silence, "How are you feeling?" God, I'm so sick of people asking me how I feel. The next time someone asks me that I'll-

"Greg," I struggle to sit up, "Do you think that we could talk about something else? I don't really feel like discussing my health with another person." Greg looks hurt and begins to apologise until I interrupt him and ask him about what's been happening at work. He fills me in on how Grissom caught him wearing the evidence again, and had to get Nicky to chase him around the lab to try and get it off him. Finally he did, but only when Grissom threatened to 'fire his ass', which Greg reassures me were his words, not Grissoms. Our conversation flows freely until we are interrupted by the arrival of the rest of the team. They enter my room and greet me once again, commenting on how much better I look. The truth is I feel like shit, and am drugged up to who knows where, but I don't say anything. Nicky and Greg argue over the chair, and my fantasy becomes real. Warrick and Catherine try to talk to me and Grissom stands near them, watching Greg and Nicky fight and occasionally joining in on the conversation between Cath, Warrick and I. I let their words flow over me and eventually I fall asleep, lulled into my dreams over talk about dry cleaning and blood splatter.

! ~ ! ~ ! ~ ! ~ ! ~ ! ~ ! ~ ! ~ ! ~ ! ~ ! ~ ! ~ ! ~ !

As I open my eyes the first thing I see is Grissom on the seat beside me. The next thing I see is his hand holding mine. He shifts a little trying to find a more comfortable position in the chair. He is asleep.

"Grissom," I whisper, smiling. He looks so peaceful when he sleeps. The night nurse walks into my room and we smile at one another. This has been my fourth night here, and I am used to when the nurses come and go, so I time my body clock around them – when to sleep, when to wake, when to eat, when to go to the bathroom and so on. She notices Grissom and smiles at me as she checks and changes the bandages on my shoulder.

"This is getting much better" she comments, "You should be able to leave in a few days Sara." We're on first name basis now.

"Thanks Joan," I say to her as she finishes up. She's much more gentle than the doctor who doesn't seem to care.

"He your boyfriend?" she asks me, nodding in Grissom's direction. I am surprised by her question and try to laugh it off.

"No," I tell her, "he's my boss." She smiles at me again.

"He's a very caring boss then. You know, he spends a lot of time here, in the waiting room, outside your room. I don't think I've seen him spend too much time in here though." She walks out of the room and snaps her gloves off. The sudden sound wakes Grissom up.

"Morning sleepyhead," I say as a greeting to him. He sits up properly and rubs his eyes. He looks so cute when he wakes up.

"Morning," he says smiling at me.

"It's nice to know that I can find you asleep too" I joke to him. He chuckles and stands up to stretch. As he opens his mouth to talk I interrupt him. "Don't ask me how I feel because if you do I'm gonna seriously injure you. I'm so sick of it." He looks stunned by my sudden outburst and opens and closes his mouth a few times, searching for something to say. I've stumped him.

"How did you sleep?" he finally asks. I laugh at his question and tell him that I slept well.

"The nurse said that I might be able to get out of here in a few days."

"That's great news," he says, sitting back down, his hands in his lap.

"Here," I pat the bed, "I wanna hold your hand." He looks shocked. His eyes travel from my face to his hands and back to my face. "Go on," I say, "I won't bite." He paces his hand on top of mine and I give it a reassuring squeeze.

"Do you know where you're going to go after you're discharged?" he asks. I laugh at his question.

"Probably back to my place." He looks worried.

"Are you sure, because I think that you should stay with someone who can care for you until you get better." He looks at me and I squeeze his hand again.

"I'll be fine."

"No, really, you should stay with someone."

"Are you suggesting that I stay with you, Grissom?" I ask. He looks away. I am disappointed and let go of his hand to move some hair off my face to try and mask my embarrassment of asking him such a forward question. I wince as my elbow folds at the drip and Grissom notices this. He stands up out of his chair and leans over me.

"Here," he says, "let me" I watch as his hand travels up past my face and moves the renegade lock back into position behind my ear. His hand has mesmerised me.

"I need a hair tie," I whisper, savouring the sensation of his hand on my face. He runs his index and middle fingers down my jawbone, his thumb trailing along underneath my chin. He comes to my lips and gently runs his index finger over my bottom lip. I whimper slightly as I kiss his finger. He bends over some more, his face coming ever so closer to mine. I can see how he licks his lips in anticipation of kissing me, and he lets out a small breath when his face is practically touching my own. His breath tickles my mouth and I smile slightly. He smiles back and closes his eyes as I close my own. 'He smells so good' I think as I murmur his name. Suddenly, I hear a loud nose at my door and so does Grissom. He jumps away from me quickly as the others enter the room with arms laden with books, magazines and balloons. I don't think that any of them saw, however Cath is looking at me with a sly grin on her face.

"That doctor of your's come back yet Sara?" she asks, taking prime position on my bed beside me. Her hair is extra shiny today and she is wearing just a bit more makeup than usual. I don't think that she saw anything. The others continue their party around me as I look at Grissom, once again in his corner. He catches my eye and winks at me. I smile back, and we continue this non-verbal banter throughout the entire visit

! ~ ! ~ ! ~ ! ~ ! ~ ! ~ ! ~ ! ~ ! ~ ! ~ ! ~ ! ~ ! ~ !

SEVERAL DAYS LATER…

I am helping the nurse, Joan, pack my bags when Grissom walks into my room to come and pick me up. The doctors have told me that my shoulder should be fine in a few weeks and until it is better I should rest. That means no fieldwork for me, only lab work. I'm secretly grateful for that because I don't think that I'd be up to doing much fieldwork with my arm in a sling and a bump on my head.

"Hi," Grissom says looking at me and then at Joan. It's actually Joan doing all the work folding my clothes and packing my bag, I'm just standing by her attempting to zip my toiletries bag up with one hand. "Here," he says to me, taking the bag off me and zipping it up. 'Here' is becoming a large word in our vocabulary.

"Thanks," I say as I drop it into my suitcase. Joan zips it up and places it on the floor beside me.

"I'll just go and get your forms," she tells me, looking over her shoulder as she leaves the room. Grissom and I are alone now. I sit back on the bed and lie down. All this standing and attempting to pack has made me tired and my shoulder and head are beginning to hurt. Grissom sits in the chair beside me and looks up at me. I smile at him and we wait in silence for Joan to return. When she does come back five minutes later Grissom has taken my hand and is gently stroking it. She hands me a clipboard and a pen. I messily sign my name and she gives me a bottle of pills. She tells me that they are for the pain and I should take one a day for one week, no more, no less. I stand up and Grissom walks over to my side of the bed to steady me as I walk out the door. 

Grissom pauses at the door for one second and leaves me leaning against the doorframe. I watch him as he picks up my bag and carries out the door. He's so nice to me. As we walk out of the hospital, with his arm around my back, I feel the sunlight hit my face and the Las Vegas heat on my skin. Grissom walks me over to his car and unlocks it. He walks around to the passenger side and opens the door for me. I climb in and he shuts it behind me. I can hear him opening the back of the car and putting my bag down as I lean my head against the headrest behind me. The boot shuts and the driver's door opens. He climbs in and smiles at me. I reach out and pat his thigh. I turn around to attempt to do up my seatbelt when Grissom leans over me and grabs it from my hand. As he clicks it into place I reach my hand up and touch his face to thank him. He smiles at me and moves slowly moves his face towards mine, whispering my name. As he begins to kiss me, I feel happy for the first time in months and breathe a sigh of relief as I imagine waking up to this man everyday for the rest of my life.

! ~ ! ~ ! ~ ! ~ ! ~ ! THE END ! ~ ! ~ ! ~ ! ~ ! ~ !

Tell me what you think. It's not hard. Just press that little button on the left and write a line or two. Hell, write a word or two, I don't care. Just write something and I swear that you'll feel better for it. I love getting reviews from all of you – it makes my day. Oh yeah, and I just had to put in that ER reference. I couldn't help myself. ;)


End file.
